


Brother

by murdochinthetardis



Category: Dirk Gently's Holistic Detective Agency (TV 2016)
Genre: Trans!Martin, supportive punk family
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-04-06
Updated: 2018-04-06
Packaged: 2019-04-19 09:10:40
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,228
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14233998
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/murdochinthetardis/pseuds/murdochinthetardis





	Brother

Martin hated hospitals. All those machines, all those tiny rooms, all those people in white lab coats, it brought back too many bad memories.

_“This isn’t Blackwing.”_ Martin assured himself. _“Here they heal, not harm. Suck it up.”_ He thought.

So suck it up he did. The Rowdy 3 had been saving up for this for ages, grabbing wallets and cash registers during raids, pawning junk they’d taken, anything that would be worth a penny. It would be worth it.

Martin came out once the four of them were out of blackwing. They had been sitting in a diner, the waiter too intimidated to question these four people who looked like escaped convicts.

“I’m trans.” Martin confessed, his eyes looking down to the table as he halfheartedly poked at his meal, worried that this family he’d made would cast him out.

“Hi trans, I’m Cross.” The tallest of them joked. Martin threw a fry at him.

The other three asked what name and pronouns to refer to their leader by and that was that. Their sister became their brother. Nothing but unwavering support and a mission to make Martin more comfortable in his own skin.

First it was a binder. Something simple and black, a tank top that went down to the bottom of Martin’s ribcage. Gripps was strict with how long Martin could wear it for, always telling him when the recommended eight hours were up.

Next was hormone therapy. Martin’s voice got deeper, cracking a lot at first, to his embarrassment. Martin started a habit of growling whenever his voice broke. The deep, even noise made him feel in control. Soon his voice the lowest of anybody in the Rowdy 3’s. He’d talk so much more often just to hear his own voice, to be sure it was his. It sounded right for once. Uneven peach fuzz turned into a beard that Gripps was definitely a little jealous of.

Martin wasn’t like Dirk, he didn’t have those hunches of how the universe was supposed to go, but he knew that this was who he was.

“Hey, boss!” Vogel shouted, snapping Martin back into the present of the hospital room.

“Vogel.” Martin replied with a nod. If Vogel’s here then Cross and Gripps wouldn’t be far behind.

Soon enough the two others skidded into the room, their eyes wild like usual. Excited, bored of waiting, and like Martin, a little afraid of the place that this isn’t. The people here smelled weird. Afraid. Sad. Sick. The hospital halls were a swirl of panic and so many other emotions, it’s a lot even for them. But they pushed through it, for their brother.

“Martin!” Cross practically yelled, his voice definitely not suited for indoors. “You’re up!”

“You can’t all be-” A nurse started talking but it wasn’t any use.

“How d’you feel?” Gripps asked.

Martin grunted as a reply. He ached. His head felt light and heavy at the same time. And his chest- to nobody’s surprise- hurt. “Physically? Bonzo bad.”

“Visitors aren’t-” The nurse hopelessly tried to continue.

“Mentally?” Cross interrupted.

A smile broke across Martin’s face. “Better. A whole lot better.”

“We got you a present!” Vogel beamed.

“A present? Why?” Martin asked.

“Well think about it,” Gripps said. “You were just in a knife fight and won.”

“While ASLEEP!” Cross eagerly added. “So we got you a victory present!”

Gripps put a shoebox on Martin’s lap. “They said your chest n’ arms are gonna hurt for a while.”

“No swinging bats.” Vogel said sadly.

The nurse looked confused. “Do you boys play baseball?”

The Rowdy 3 shared glances. “Yes…?” Martin hesitantly replied. “Can we  _please_  get some privacy now?” Martin asked. The nurse huffed but left.

“Soooo we got you these!” Cross said. “Open it!”

The box was a normal shoebox but with a bow on top and “To: Martin :)” and “From:  **Vogel**  +  _Cross_  + Gripps” with the names written in three different handwriting styles in permanent marker. Martin took the lid off.

Inside were a pair of black boots. New, shiny, leather boots.

“They’re steel toe boots.” Gripps told him. “If you can’t smash things with your arms these will help you kick the shit outta them!”

“Martin?” Vogel asked, his voice a lot softer. “Are… are you crying?”

“No!” Martin sniffed. “Maybe… Yes!” He pushed up his glasses and wiped away his tears. “You three are just so damn kind! I don’t- I don’t deserve you.”

“You’re our brother, Martin.” Cross told him.

Gripps nodded. “We’re always gonna support you.”

 

* * *

 

A few years later and the Rowdy three have gone from “but there’s four of them!” to “but there’s six of them!”

Halfway through smashing a condemned building to bits, Amanda fell to her knees. The other rowdies are there in seconds.

“Drummer!” Vogel yelled. “What is it?!”

“Is it an attack?” Gripps asked.

Amanda shook her head. “No, not like that. It’s just- fuck! It’s a bad one.”

“Bad what?” Cross asked, tilting his head to the side.

“It’s my time of the month.” Amanda replied.

“Is it a full moon?” Vogel asked, confused. “ARE YOU A WEREWOLF?!

“Man I wish, but no.” Amanda smiled then grimaced. “I uh… unwanted monthly subscription to Satan’s waterfall?”

“A what now?” Gripps said.

“Shark week?”

“There’s no sharks-” Cross started.

“Boys.” Martin sighed. “She’s on her period. Code red.” There’s a murmur of “ohhhh” in the group. Beast is still making sure Amanda isn’t hurt when Martin brought the drummer back to her feet. “Ain’t no shame in it.” He told her.

Martin led his friend back to the van, the chaos of just a few minutes ago forgotten in an instant. He got into the driver’s seat and off they went. Amanda groaned when waves of pain washed over her. The van pulled into a drug-mart parking lot

“Vogel, you’re on snacks. As much junk as you can carry.” Martin instructed. “Cross, get painkillers and heat packs. Gripps, get pads and tampons.”

“What kind?” Gripps asked.

Martin shrugged. “Don’t matter now. Get two of everything to stock up. None of the cheap ones though.”

The men nodded, their tasks clear.

“What can Beastie do?” Beast asked, her multi-coloured eyes wide and curious. Did she know what a period was? Did she have them? Some questions were probably best left unanswered.

“Go with Gripps. Carry what he gives you, okay?” Martin asked. Beast nodded excitedly and grinned at Gripps, who smiled back.

The four piled out of the van and rushed off to complete their missions. Martin sat next to Amanda, one arm around her, his thumb gently rubbing her shoulder. “Sorry you gotta put up with this bullshit, Drummer. I know it ain’t no fun.”

“I’ve had worse.” Amanda mumbled. “How’d you know exactly what to do?”

“I went through the same thing.” Martin shrugged. “The boys n’ I worked out a system.”

“Huh? What do- ohh.” The realization hit her.

Martin watched confusion turn to surprise turn to acceptance. Amanda took it well. “Yeah. I’m a trans guy.” He confessed. It felt good to actually say it.

“That’s awesome man.” Amanda grinned. “I’m glad you trust me enough to tell me. While we’re telling each other things… I’m bi?”

“Me too.” Martin replied. “Don’t think anyone of us Rowdies are straight.”

“Really?”

“Drummer, the Universe gave us a walking rainbow. It’s really not subtle.”


End file.
